World Cup 54: RP thread

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

OOC - Franz Braddock appropriated with Sarz's full TG'd permission; any failure to do him justice, however, is entirely my fault.

"So what did you say this stuff was called again?"

"Chacan Cactus Fire Vodka, Franz. Why?"

"It's lethal. Lethal as a Qaz... lethal as something pretty damn lethal, anyway."

"You don't like it?"

"No, no, Juan. I really like it. I just can't believe you expect us to get through an entire bottle of this. I'm 90-something. They're going to have to carry me out of here."

"90-something?"

"Ah - well. I never had a chance to thank you for that. Well, not you personally, but, well, you know."

"Sometimes these things happen. It's not necessarily something we control. When you young mundies drop by, there can be... side effects. I don't claim to understand it all, but you're welcome all the same."

"That's quite some team you have there, Juan."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Not entirely."

"Because I would have thought you would have been more than a little upset by that goalkeeper."

"<laughs> Upset? I'm f**king furious. I'd appeal tomorrow if I thought I'd get anywhere."

"But?"

"But your HEFA seems to have some sort of hold over the WCC when it comes to the rules. And it worked for you, didn't it? 'The Reclining Buddha snowman snow sculpture'.... You really don't think that was cheating? Covering almost the entire goal mouth with what is, effectively, a wall of snow?"

"It's not against the rules. I checked. Personally"

"But it's not wholly in the spirit of the game, either, is it? You'll forgive me for pointing out that it's not the classiest thing you've ever done. Or is this where you treat me to a lecture about 'mundy morals mean nothing to me'?"

"They don't. But it wasn't me who missed an open goalmouth, in front of a melting snowman incapable of stopping a shot that would have put your team 2-1 up with five minutes of extra time left, was it?"

"No. Dennis'll regret that one for years. And that was a lovely last gasp free kick from Uhroom-Uhroom. I'll concede that."

"Thanks."

"<sigh> I don't know why I respect you so much, Juan. The crap your teams pull. The sh*t you force your opponents to put up with sometimes. Some of your squads are the antithesis of the values I've spent decades building into my squads. There are times I want to, want to...."

"But here you are. Drinking my Chacan Cactus Fire Vodka."

"Yes. Here I am.

<pause>

Say, is there any of that fire vodka left?"

"About one glass each, Franz. Why?"

"Fill 'em up - I have a toast."

"Which is?"

"To legends... whatever they might be."

"<laughs> Aye. To legends."

[Bears Armed]

Urrsa looked across the stadium, at a sizeable section of the stands that appeared to be empty until you noticed the scarves in the Belles’ colours being waved above many of its seats and heard the chants rising from that area.
“Looks like our other ‘spiritual’ support is out in force for this game, too. Bit of a surprise them turning out to still exist, after so long when a lack of any contacts left us thinking that their entire People had long-since been destroyed by our mutual enemies, hr’rmm?”

“Their return was a hrreal surprise, all right,” agreed Marra, “and I remember it as though it was only yesternight. There I was in my office at Wimbley, just about to explain to Urradarra o SwanWater about how ‘Honey’ still seems so young although she wasn’t ‘rejuvenated’ seven years ago like some of us, when the intruder alarm went off…” Her mind drifted back to that event…

* * * * *

Marra and Urradarra burst through the door out onto pitch-side, where they found a number of other Bears from amongst the team's staff and stadium staff gathering too. Facing these, from the centre circle, were half a dozen figures that — although bipedal, and with heights ranging from about four feet to about eight feet — resembled nothing else as much as they did Rabbits.

"Trickster-spirits," grumbled the stadium's manager Beorra o Marra. "Just what we don't need here... Urrgah!"

"Oh, fleas and fur-loss!" Marra exclaimed. "Has the jinx managed to spread its effects here from Plumtrees Park after all, despite the stadium there being demolished and all of the purification and protection rites that have been carried out?
"And this would have to happen while Urrthra MoonShadow is off on a retreat, too... Is there another shabear in the place?"

"I don't know, but The Wise Grorrfinn was certainly around a little while ago and maybe he could do something?" volunteered one of the secretaries.

"Hr'rmm, not a bad idea that," Marra agreed. "Not a bad idea at all, for true. Hokay, do any of you know just where His Wisdom actually is?"

"I am HERE" came a reply, as the team's 'TrueBear' mascot strolled out onto the pitch via the players' tunnel. "Now, where are these beings that the fuss is about? Oh, them.. Hr'rmm." He took a deep sniff.
"Ohoh, those aren't 'Trickster Spirits', actually, those are old friends from over an eightCubed of years ago, rather surprisingly returned to us." He walked across towards those 'Rabbits', and addressed them:
"Heyyah, H'Arvh-Ay; heyyah, H'Arrh-Ee: long time no smell! It pleases my liver to be in your presence here again, while still here on the green Earth. I had thought you and all of your people long since departed hence, your forms devoured by the Wulfen..."

"H'Arvh-Ay, and H'Arrh-Ee?" Urradarra murmured in an astonished tone when she heard these words... "But those were the names of two amongst the leaders of Rabbit's Friends and Relatives, the People who taught our own beforebears how to farm plants for food instead of just relying on gathering them from the wild, back in the days of the First Wanderings, after the TrueBears themselves had taught us speech and law..."


"Heyyah Grorrfinn, old friend!" one of the Rabbits replied to him. "And it is truly a pleasant surprise for us to be in your presence again, too, for the last news of you that came to us was a story that you had been slain by a Bale-Frog while protecting the retreat of your kinsfolk during the fall of the hidden fortress of Borrodinn..."

"Hwell, in fact that story was true," Grorfinn answered them, "and so I returned for a brief while to the Eternal Forest; but when the Barrlarr harkened to the plea of Bearendil but a few eights of years later on, and Elbeareth and Her consort Barrwe led a force of the Star-Bears down to Earth to deal with the demons that had been summoned by the last lords of the Purple Empire, I was sent back hither as a guide for them, and after their victory was asked and allowed to remain amongst the living once more...
Hwat, then, is your tale?"


"You know of course that, like your own People, the Eldest of ours were and are spirits given material form rather than truly mortal beings," replied H'Arh-Vay.
"Well, when the accursed Wulfen destroyed our children-that-were and our own first bodies we were all permitted by Rabbit to remain on the Earth which we had come to love so much instead of returning home to The Eternal Forest...
And so we wandered, managing to manifest only occasionally, until we -- well, most of us, anyway, for some groups had gone their own way elsewhere through the years -- found a path into a land where the worlds of Dreams lie close to mortal Reality; and there, we were eventually able to shape new bodies for ourselves through 'dreaming' , although bodies that are not composed fully of mundane matter, and to begin increasing our People's numbers once again.
"And now we have decided that the time was right for revealing our continued existence, which hitherto was known only to a few people, to the worlds..."

"Hwait a moment!" Marra interrupted. "I remember you, now: We played two matches against a team from your People in the qualifying stage of an earlier World Cup, one of our earliert, it must have been about fiveEights's of years ago!"

"Oh, that, then..." replied H'Arh-Vay. "Yes, our Council let Harr'Ee put a team together to compete after he'd heard about the tournament in a Bar, but afterwards we decided that the right time for this revelation had not yet come and so we clouded peoples' memories of its existence."


__________________________________________________________________________


OOC comments

Yes, I freely acknowledge it, this episode draws to some extent on the works of J.R.R. Tolkien as well as on those of A.A. Milne... I've considered the TrueBears to be their reality's analogue of Tolkien's elves ever since I originally wrote them into this nation's history, which was maybeso about a year before 'Grorrfinn' himself actually appeared in RP for the first time.
'Grorrfinn' = 'Glorfindel', of course...

The fact that I've finally got around to explaining this bit of background just before the Bears play a match against the Elves of Valanaora is honestly a pure coincidence, and one whose existence didn't occur to me until after I'd posted the section down to Grorrfinn's explanation of his presence here at that...

Oh, and yes -- in case you haven't already realised it -- these 'Rabbits' are from the same People who are known in NS as the Invisible Wabbits and who entered a team of their own into the BoF & qualifiers for WC45....
No, the land that they found isn't supposed to be anything to do with the 'Dreamed Realm': If you check their nation's location by following the link then you'll see that it's located in The West Pacific, and in fact they're actually talking about Australia and its "Dreamtime" instead... although maybe the race of sapient carnivorous bunnies who are known to The Holy Empire might be a breakway faction from this people, a branch that chose to adopt deadlier forms so that they wouldn't be as vulnerable in future? Over to you, your imperialness...

[The Babbage Islands]

Quarterfinal cutoff, part one!

Two go through

[Cassadaigua]

And now part two of your quarterfinal cutoff!

Margaret Strikes!

[The Babbage Islands]

GERNSBACK (BPA) -- A highly-anticipated World Cup semifinal matchup at Capital Stadium in Charleston has come a cropper as world #1 Valanora and world #2 The Babbage Islands were both upset in quarterfinal action. The Vanorians lost to a determined Bears Armed squad in Belgium 1-0, whilst the host Bumblebees fell to The Holy Empire in Gernsback 3-2.

Bethany Martin scored both Bumblebees goals in a raucous second half and nearly sent the match into extra time with a desperate long shot that rattled the crossbar as the final whistle blew. Despite the dome's presence, the home eleven were constantly buffeted by the elements and fell behind 2-0 after 50 minutes. However, exceptionally solid goalkeeping began to melt down in the second half and Martin started to break through.

[Jeru FC]

Princess Helena Troi with Mango Mousse after Jeru FC's 2-0 win over the Purple Menace

Helena: Good work Mango, we got one over them Purple People Eaters.
Mango: Well, I think a game against your team Jeruselem would have been more fun.
Helena: I know but it didn't happen.
Mango: I do my best work at night.
Helena: Enough of that.
Mango: Wonder Aguazul have any hot chicks playing for them?
Helena: I don't think so, Mango.
Mango: It's a pity it's our last cup.
Helena: I guess the army have to do something with their losers.
Mango: We're potentially championship losers!
Helena: Yes you have lost one.
Mango: Oh yes, that.
Helena: So you're looking for a job?
Mango: I was thinking of co-hosting your cooking show. Every cooking show needs a hot man.
Helena: Is that because I sometimes don't wear clothes during the show?
Mango: No, just need a job.
Helena: You can cook?
Mango: I'm no chef but I can do deserts.
Helena: I suppose you'd make the show more interesting and bring a male audience.
Mango: See, it's a good idea.
Helena: Let me think about it. You just work on your football for now.
Mango: I heard rumours the next coach could be a woman.
Helena: We are open to anyone taking the job apart from maybe certain types of people.
Mango: I'd like to have to hot female coach.
Helena: It's not me OK, got too many other things to do.
Mango: The boys love your show.
Helena: They watch anything with pretty girls wearing little.
Mango: That's because we're banned from watching real dirty stuff.
Helena: So what do the boys do when they don't play football?
Mango: Apart from training, they just do tasks which don't involve firing weapons.
Helena: So why are you in the army then?
Mango: I don't know, they told us it's patriotic and good for the nation.
Helena: God help us if Jeru FC need to be fighting for us.
Mango: We aren't allowed near live weapons.
Helena: I'm glad. Now, you just concentrate on taking this World Cup home.
Mango: We'll do our best.
Helena: Not your best, do everything.
Mango: If we win this cup, I get to co-host your show ...
Helena: OK, if you do. I'll be happy to do that.
Mango: That's a deal?
Helena: Keep your hand to yourself though, it's a cooking show.
Mango: Oh come on, you've great melons!
Helena: Hey hey, I know but you must behave yourself. Say, isn't your Mum that porn star Cherry Mousse?
Mango: Yes, she is. You know her?
Helena: I don't but my Mum does.

[Aguazul]

"What day is it?"

"I don't...where am I?"

"Grisolon."

That didn't seem to help. "I'm not sure."

"Okay. Just curious, with the World Cup and all you know how time gets funny. Anyway, who's the head of...don't answer, there might have been another coup. Anyway, are you all right?"

"I think so. What happened?"

"You...the ship...lurched. A lot. You were flung to shore."

"And the others?" This question seemed to unsettle him. "Isaio? Joaquin?"

"Oh! Yes, your friends are fine."

"Good." Ranemiro exhaled. "I was holding a guitar. I don't suppose..."

"We think it might have broken your fall. Or something. Smashed now. But I think we'll find it in the budget to get you a new one."

"Really?" His face lit up. "Can it be electric? Or, no, I'd rather Isaio have a proper bass and Joaquin get an actual drum."

"I think that can be arranged."

*

"Okay," Gerardo sighed, glancing out again at the stands. Leading by example could only get him so far. "Listen. They've got home field advantage. They're going to try and get as much out of it as they can. Don't let them."

"Should we go try and kick all the fans out?" Vincente had a way of taking things literally.

"No. Just...football is football, right? No matter who, or where...You should think of this as your home stadium, just as much as your real home stadium is."

Chago tried to reason this through. "But then we wouldn't get an advantage?"

"No, no. You get an advantage everywhere. Because the game is everywhere."

The message did not appear to be sinking in.

But then came the light show. "This isn't too different," Vincente grinned. "Only it's the fans with the...lights, and they're not quite as..."

"Techy," Pedro filled in. "Whatever. This is cool."

And Vincente had always been one to play with that indifference, or at least come near it. He had nerves of his own as he dribbled around Shannon Knight, hesitant, but was able to for an instant tune everything out, the angry fans and the fact that it was the World Cup quarterfinal, and shoot; not the most confident shot he'd ever taken, but there was enough time for surety after it went in. Aguazul had never led, never scored in the World Cup quarterfinals they'd been too, and a buzz filled the team as play restarted.

It was cautious, the defense almost trying to show off as much as defenses could; leave it to us, it's okay. Cassadaigua seemed far from out of it, their fans still roaring them on, but the wingers cut them off and play was slow, stalled at the edges.

Until Bruno broke free. Dribbling forward, he saw the game peeling out a step ahead of him; not through the open spaces like Gerardo, but so confident of his chance that he forced play around himself. Charging forward, angling as he dribbled, and finally shooting. It wobbled off his foot, but no matter; Aguazul led by two.

"Stay focused," Sortani said at halftime. "You're leading. Teams do that sometimes. Act like you're used to it."

Yet he was thrilled too, and maybe it was seeing his dark humor that let them loosen up, play fast long passes back and forth but to no gain, early in the second half. Even when Cassadaigua had possession, the defense seemed fine. But then Jennifer Leahey, a halftime arrival, tore forward and shot into the top of the net.

The fans surged to life as an elaborate celebration danced across the electronic scoreboard. What filled Aguazul, or at least Gerardo, in kind, was not quite anger so much as a grim stubbornness; they could hold Cassadaigua there. Couldn't they?

Each change of possession seemed a sign of something, but there was no way of knowing what. But then the injury time announcement, two minutes, went up, and they prickled, hope clamped up inside of them. Onward, farther...

The whistle blew, and they felt like dots amid the devastation. Dots sparking with joy. Dots who, among the home crowd, claimed the field as their own.

[Alasdair I Frosticus]

OOC - Fair RP bonus time: the poem quoted is, IC'ly, The Imperial Epic of Guillermo B. Yeatses. OOC'ly, it's a lightly-edited conflation of three separate W.B. Yeats poems that I've used before, and is indeed stored on NSWiki.


"Are you absolutely sure you want me to do this, Anthemius?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Tzimisces, sir. I think it's absolutely the right thing to do."

"Because I don't have the greatest track record with these inspirational speech thingies."

"Sir?"

"Well, every time I really wind myself up to deliver one, we end up getting knocked out of the World Cup - which probably makes me look slightly silly."

"Oh no sir. Not you. Not slightly silly."

"Say, you're not one of these HEFA yes men, are you?"

"Yes, sir. I certainly am."

"Right."

"And let me say what a wonderful privilege it is to be here talking to you toady. I mean, today. Not toady; today."

"And you want me to prepare the team with a speech?"

"Yes, sir."

"Despite my personal reluctance to do just that?"

"Yessir."

"And despite the team's dismal track record when I do give speeches."

"Yessir. Except sir, you did give an inspirational speech at one point in WC48, and over at HEFA, well.... we sort of like the precedent."

"Alrighty then.... you asked for it...."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hear me now, my team.

Today, this very hour, we take the field in this mighty stadium overlooking Charleston Harbour to play the ursines of Bears Armed.

And we shall emerge victorious.

Let it not be doubted that we face a worthy foe, a foe that shall match us for 90 minutes - and perhaps beyond.

But we shall emerge victorious.

Let it not be doubted that Marra SunDaughter, for whom I have the utmost respect, has done herself great credit in leading her girls so close to the footballing summit.

But we shall emerge victorious.

And let it not be doubted that the ursines' results speak for themselves - the 3-1 crushing of the monks; the 1-0 upset over the elves; truly their confidence must be high.

And yet still I say to you that we shall emerge victorious.

For where they have but one nation behind them, great though that nation might be, we have the dreams of billions across all the multiverse behind us....

For you, my team, fulfill so many dreams....

You, my Rejistanian and Starblaydi personifications fulfill the dreams of a Bostopian academic.

You, my sly Mr. Football, fulfill the dreams of an eccentric from Unibot.

You, Aaron Cohen, fulfill the dreams not just of an Cafundelense musician, but of all Sephardic shofar players across the entire multiverse.

You, Andrew Lascaro, fulfill the dreams of another Cafundelense, and of all out of shape middle-aged men who fancy themselves as a bit of a comedian - a very broad demographic indeed.

You, my passive, magnificent goalkeeper who cannot understand a word I say, fulfill the dreams of every little boy and little girl in Sorthern Northland who likes to play in the cold, cold snow.

You, L.C. Greenwood and Mean Joe Green play a sport you consider both unmanly and strange - but still cannot bring yourselves to let down that little boy in Qazox for whom the '79 Steelers are but a figment of an overactive imagination.

You, gold and platinum, represent sentient elements across the infinite multiverse.

And you, yes you, Uhroom-Uhroom, my mighty midfield engine, my ursine cave bear pearl of great price, are my secret weapon, because out there tonight there will be more than one patriotic ursine, not just the little girl who brought you into my team, who will will have had dreams of divided loyalty when you take the ball.

With you, my team, how can I who have already won one World Cup, I who defended the Black Gate against the Enemy, fail here tonight?

So take the field, go forth, and play like you have never played before.

Play like the wind.

Play like the fire.

Play like the thunder of a billion trillion dreamers - and more - inspire you tonight....

FOR THE BASILEUS!

FOR THE EMPIRE!!

FOR GLORY!!!

I AM ANCIENT

I AM LEGEND

I AM JUAN TZIMISCES

AND IF YOU PLACE YOUR FAITH IN ME TONIGHT, I SHALL BRING YOU THE VICTORY!!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Will that do, Anthemius?"

"Oh yes, sir. Very nicely. I was quite stirred, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I do. Now get lost before I do something to you it'll take 500 dreaming monks a lifetime to undo."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------


Outside the baying cheers of the crowd, human, ursine, and miscellaneous other, were growing louder. Soon he would have to join his team on the field of play, and even legends could grow weary of acclaim.

He opened the small book he carried with him at all times, and began to read.

The unpurged images of day recede;
The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed;
Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song
After great cathedral gong;
A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains
All that man is,
All mere complexities,
The fury and the mire of human veins.

Miracle, bird or golden handiwork,
More miracle than bird or handiwork,
Planted on the starlit golden bough,
Can like the cocks of Hades crow,
Or, by the moon embittered, scorn aloud
In glory of changeless metal
Common bird or petal
And all complexities of mire or blood.

At midnight on the Emperor's pavement flit
Flames that no faggot feeds, nor steel has lit,
Nor storm disturbs, flames begotten of flame,
Where blood-begotten spirits come
And all complexities of fury leave,
Dying into a dance,
An agony of trance,
An agony of flame that cannot singe a sleeve.

Astraddle on the dolphin's mire and blood,
Spirit after spirit! The smithies break the flood,
The golden smithies of the Emperor!
Marbles of the dancing floor
Break bitter furies of complexity,
Those images that yet
Fresh images beget,
That dolphin-torn, that gong-tormented sea.

Ours is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed ‘cross dreams and come
To the holy city of Alasdairopolis.

O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Imperial goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of the Holy Empire
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

The darkness drops again. And know I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle.
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

He closed the book.

"Once out of nature I shall never take my bodily form from any natural thing, but such a form as Imperial goldsmiths make of hammered gold and gold enamelling"

Alone for one brief moment, Juan Tzimisces allowed himself to smile.

For better or for worse, it was time to go and face whatever rough beast was slouching towards Bethlehem this night.

[Bears Armed]

Marra SunDaughter addresses the Bear-Belles _


“Hrright, so now we have to face ‘The Holy Empire’: They might not be ranked as highly currently as the Elves were by the NSWCC, eight-and-two places lower in fact, but as those of you who’ve been keeping track of events elsewhere within the rest of this tournament — which should be ALL of you — should already know their current team is probably going to be even harder for us to deal with than those were … even without our old friend Ug-ug or any of his relatives in its line-up. I’ll give you a brief run-through on how I scent the threats that are posed by each of their various players, and how I want you to cope with those, and then we’ve got some footage of their last two games that the Ravens brought in for you to watch so that you can see what I mean for yourselves.
“Firstly, though, here’s a printout of the actual line-up that we’re going to be fielding against them, which is a little bit tighter on defence than our usual arrangement: More of a 3-4-3 than our usual 5-2-1-2, actually. And yes, before you ask, Urrsa is hokay with Urra taking over as Captain for this game, in fact it was her own idea… Now, take a copy, and pass the rest along.”

Starters

Goalkeeper: (#1) Rosa o SnowWhite,

Left Back: (#2) Beorra Marra o Barrdenn
Centre Back: (#5) Erra o MiddleMarch
Right Back: (#3) Urrsirha

Midfield Centre-Right: (#7) Renatha Virra’s-daughter
Midfield Centre-Left: (#4) Urra ‘Honey’ SunBlesséd (Captain)
Midfield Outer Right: (#20) Arna-Maggra o Wirrenne
Midfield Outer Left: (#6) Urrthra ‘White Lightning’ Lightning

Right Forward: (#25) Marvra WestFarer,
Centre Forward: (#10) Urrsa SunBlesséd (Deputy Captain)
Left Forward: (#11) Irrarla SunDaughter


Substitutes

Goalkeeper: (#15) Urrathanna o BerryGlades,
Defence: (#17) Arranarra o Harruorr
Lynchpin: (#32) Sammhra Fairbarrrhn
Midfield: (#23) Cierra o Vorross
Winger: (#13) Darronthna Lightning
Forward: (#12) Jhargeena Lightning
Forward: (#26) Errsae Moonlight o Herrchaum

“Everybody got a copy of the list, and read it? Hrright. Now for the other side’s team _

“Goalkeeper: a Snowman. Just a snow-statue, apparently, and non-mobile. The only hrreal prrroblem that it's likely to present comes from how much of the goal-mouth it covers… but Urradarra and our lawyers have checked the rules thoroughly, and there’s nothing there to say that we can’t quite ‘legally’ shoot through it if the opportunity arises: So, shoot or head the ball around it if there’s an easy enough opening, but otherwise just get as much power behind your kick as you can.
“Outer backs, two humans from an ‘American Football’ team. They’ll probably have become used to being rather bigger and stronger than their opponents here, so hopefully we should come as a bit of a shock to them: Just play your normal game, as far as they’re concerned, and that pair should be amongst the least of our worries.
“Centre back, a mystically-produced personification of the nation of HRrejistania: He’ll be verrry good indeed, technically. Avoid him on your run-ins if that’s possible, otherwise just do the best you can.
“Left centre midfield, a fat man, apparently a comedian of some kind. He should be another of their weakest links, but there have been hints that he’s maybeso particularly blessed by Fortune. Go past him rather than his colleagues, if there’s a choice, but be wary of chances that might twist things into his favour.”
“Centre Midfield, Uhroom-Uhroom, of course. Hwell, I suppose it had to be only a matter of time before somebody else brought a Bear of their own against us… Still, verrry good player or not — and furless BIG or not — probably rather less of a problem for us than for any other team… Hrright?
“Right central midfield, another mystical personification, this one of Starblaydia. Hokay, so that nation has a verrry proud history in this series of Cups, but I think that the Empire might just have slipped up slightly there: If fortune favours us then this being’s level of ability will be rather less than their best ever, because of their team’s less successful results more recently than ‘historically’… and anyhows, the Belles played against them back then (once) and won, in an ‘Oxen Cup’, while the Northbears managed to hold them to a draw in one of their World Cup qualifying games a few tetrads of years back as well. Treat it as a good player, certainly not to be taken lightly of course, but there’s certainly no need to let the Starblaydian hrreputation over-awe you…
“Left wing, a sapient football… and yet some nations consider us to be weird! Just be careful which ball you’re actually kicking, that’s all, and I don’t smell any reason why it should be a problem at all, for true.
“Right wing, a Jewish human musician playing an instrument whose origins were apparently in ritual use. Maybeso not an obvious threat, could certainly be potentially another weak point in their line-up, but then again like that comedian he could be blessed fortunate… so I give you the same advice for dealing with him as I did for dealing with the comedian, go past him in favour of going past one of their stronger-seeming players, but be sensibly cautious anyhows.
“And now their front line, only two players but going by results so far rather strrrong ones: Mystical personifications again, but this time of the metals Gold and Platinum. It looks as though they play rather Bear-like, with more power and momentum than nimbleness, but they’ve shown a tricky level of agility a time or two as well. Our best bet is simply to keep the ball away from them, by keeping it with our own front line as much as possible and intercepting passes — which you’d be trying to do anyhows, I do realise — and one point in our favour is that not only are they shorter than any of you but they’re apparently too heavy to jump neither so we should have a definite advantage over them as far as high shots are concerned: Bear that in mind, please. However, in case they do get the ball, I want both of them individually marked whenever they’re even near to our half of the pitch: Renatha and Urrthra, that will be one of your roles, this match, it’s the main reason why I’ve pulled you back and inwards a bit from the wings… The weather forecast says ‘cloudy’, maybeso some rain, so hopefully sunlight reflecting off of them shouldn’t be enough to dazzle anybody.
“Hrright, any questions about this before we watch the tapes?”


Urra SunBlessed raises a hand.

“Yes, Honey?”

“The forecaster that I heard said that the rain might become a thunderstorm: What do we do about handling those two metallic players if there’s any lightning could be about to strike?”

“Good question that, for true: Being near creatures of living metal in a thunderstorm… Urrgah!
“Hokay, your lives matter more than this game’s result of course, so if it gets hrreally stormy enough for that to be a risk then just try even harrder to keep the ball well away from both of those two and don’t try to tackle either of them. We’ll just have to hope that if their team-mates do manage to get the ball to either of them then they’re struck and stopped by lightning before they can score.”

“The harrdiharr,” Urra questions in a hopeful tone, “We do get to do that again before this match, hrright?”

“Hrright. These opponents aren’t anywhere near as spiritual a group as the monks were, despite the name of the country that they’re representing here, so it’s still back to normal. The harrdiharr might not have much effect on most of them, considering their assorted oddities, but hopefully it might shake their human players a bit… as well as being good for our own morale and team-ness, of course.”

“Being back here in Charleston, playing in the same stadium where we managed so well in the Group stage, should be nice too. Apart from anything else, I think that we’ve managed to acquire a fair bit of support amongst the locals…” Urra added.

“Hr’rmm...”


There’s a knock on the room’s door, and then one of the team’s administrative staff pokes here head around this and speaks_

“Ask-your-pardon, chief, but young Hirrdhra o TrueHeart and her parents have turned up a bit early for that appointment with you that they requested: What shall I do with them?”

“Ur’rmm, just a moment.
Hrright’ Urra and Urrsa, you two ride herd on the your team-mates while you all start watching that film of the Dream-Empire’s team in action, and I should be back before it finishes…”

(She leaves the room.)


__________________________________________________________________


(OOC: The bits in grey were added after the cut-off, for the sake of completeness, as I'd already typed them up while offline and didn't want to just throw them away...)

[The Babbage Islands]

Cutoff for the semifinal in Concord Heights, Cassadaigua!

On to Dover!

[Cassadaigua]

Let's see who the other half will be!

Dreamed Realm or Bears?

[Aguazul]

"So, we're off to The Babbage Islands!" Velasquez grinned. He wasn't the biggest fan in the world, but, thought Analisa, there was nobody who didn't care by then.

"We're...oh, right, the team."

The euphoria was still lingering when he decided they had to go back to work. He had junk of his own to move in and, she was confident, he'd eventually bring more to fill the space. In the meantime, some of the more...personal papers could be disposed of.

"What's this?"

She glanced at it. "Nothing important."

"I'll be the judge of that." He glanced down at it again. "What is it?"

"Just a football thing."

"Football's important now! Bunch of dots...are those supposed to be players? Because..." he started counting, very slowly, and gave up when he ran out of fingers. "I think there's more than eleven of them."

"There are."

"Well? What are they?"

"They're...teams," she said. "Football teams."

"Where'd you get this?"

"I typed some numbers in from documents Lopez had given me. Then the computer spit out the picture."

"But supposing you'd put other numbers in?"

"Then," Analisa said with a withering glare, "I'd have gotten other dots back out."

"...right."


"So what does it mean?" he pressed.

"I'm not sure. Lopez was trying to explain it to me, the morning before..." She shivered. "But I think each dot is a team, and the higher up you go, the better your national team is. So that's Valanora." She pointed at the topmost dot.

Velasquez scrutinized it. "So these teams aren't quite so good?"

"Right. That's The Babbage Islands, and there's Albundania."

"And over there?"

"Cafundéu. Because they have the best league...the farther right you go, the better your league is."

"So what are all those teams down there?"

"They're in the UICA, but neither their league nor their team is very good."

"And the ones climbing up on the side?"

"Were in the World Cup, the proper, I mean, but don't have leagues in the UICA. Lopez told me to just do the UICA associations, and the other qualifiers."

"Like Jeru FC, Bears Armed..." Velasquez squinted. "The Holy Empire, Cassadaigua, Dorian and Sonya."

"Sixteen teams," she filled in. When she caught him trying to look at his fingers, which was difficult as they had subconsciously curled into fists, she noted, "Half the field."

"So what was he doing with this?"

"I don't know, I don't know if he had any plans. I think he just wanted something to look at, to see. Look, this is Jasĭyun here, now watch this." She slowly traced a finger across the page. "Ad’ihan, uh, Sargossa...some of these aren't really good examples, there are different rates of...okay, Pasarga, Valladares..." A distant smile crossed her face. "West Zir...not sure about them, Starblaydia, all right, Dae...okay, um, well, you get to Albundania."

Velasquez looked very confused. "Are all these countries next to each other?"

"No. Um. He just wanted to say, sometimes, teams with good leagues have bad teams and vice versa. There's more to it than that, I think...he just wanted to see it."

Velasquez was unimpressed, and for a minute Analisa thought they could just drop it and move on, but he glanced back at the graph again. "And that blob? What's that?"

She sighed. "It's...it's not a blob."

"What do you mean?"

"That's two countries. So close, I mean, so similar as far as football goes, they're almost on top of each other."

Velasquez held the graph close to his eyes. "And they're split...like he said, one up here and one down there, the one with the better team has the worse league."

"Essentially."

"So," he said, "who's the one...down there?"

"That," she gulped, "is...Sorthern Northland."

Velasquez pondered this for a moment, then nodded, smiling. "Aha. So they weren't unlucky, then, they were just...too normal not to get upset."

"Pretty much," Analisa replied, rather impressed that he'd been keeping up but feeling disappointed somehow that nothing might change at all.

"And that? Right there?"

"That," she said, worrying (without having seen the game, seen Aspe squirm away from Raw Prawn, seen Gunsedal nonchalantly pass up Rice Dumpling to score, seen Pepe Raúl close down Carrot Cake as the game wound down, and even those who were watching the game couldn't see Gerardo's old fears lost underneath the new ones (what if we make it? what if we lose? what if, what if there's nothing to reach for should we somehow win?), seen the traveling fans roar and roar again while admitting, given the result of the other semifinal, there would be no need for flares at least as a strictly tactical measure) that Lopez might have been right all along, "That's us."

[Cassadaigua]

Because 3rd is more desirable then 4th. Cutoff!

Bronze Goes to?

[Bears Armed]

“So anyhows, if Urra wasn’t mysteriously ‘rejuvenated’ along with Marra and those others seven years ago, how is it that she still seems to be so young? I mean, Seven Holy Helpers, she actually played in the Belles’ original line-up and that was before either of us was even born!”


“Hr’rmm? Oh, this is how I hear that Marra learnt about the reason…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

(Marra SunDaughter) “So, let’s see if I smell this hrrightly: Honey staying physically as well as mentally young for so long, and remaining physically youthful even now that she’s matured considerably as far as her mind is concerned, is just another example of a situation that crops up from time to time amongst people in your Sept rather than an individual unusualness on her part?”

(Urrsa SunBlesséd) “Hrright. The most recent other example that I know of before this was my own mother’s great-aunt Sarra, who vanished while taking part in a voyage of exploration — out seeking other Ursine nations, before our homeland had actually revealed its existence to the worlds — when she was already over an eightCubed and fourEights years old. According to our Singers the people affected always seem to become decidedly rather wise once they finally mature, and they remain young-like for quite a few eights of years than you’d expect after that too, getting a prolonged adulthood in all ways as though to compensate for that previous extension of their cubhood mentally.”

(Marra SunDaughter) “Hr’rmm…”

Urra visibly hesitated before continuing, and looked around as though checking that they weren’t being over-heard.

(Urrsa SunBlesséd) “As you’re a leading member of our Clan, and not just a good friend, I suppose I could tell you in confidence. Family tradition has it that this is because we actually have a trace of TrueBear blood in our arteries, and it’s their longevity — as well as their wisdom —cropping up in those occasional individuals.”

(Marra SunDaughter) “Whau!”

At this point there was the sound of something stirring behind a nearby sofa, and then ‘The Wise Grorrfinn' — who it seems had been taking an after-lunch nap there — poked his head up and joined in the conversation.

(‘The Wise Grorrfinn') “There’s no need to be shy about revealing that fact as far as I am concerned, and I seriously doubt that any other members of my People would be bothered by the fact becoming public either. Why hide it? Not ashamed of this ancestry, somehows, are you?!?”

(Urrsa SunBlesséd) “No! Of course not Wise One, not at all! Far from it indeed, for true, but our Elders decided that as we couldn’t actually prove that information making the claim might seem — hwell — boastful…”

(‘The Wise’ Grorrfinn) “Ur’rmm, I thought that it was well known…
" Marra SunBlesséd, Marra of ‘The Seven Heroes’, she who founded your Sept towards the close of the war against the Purple Empire: Was not her mate Berh’hlurréd, one of the sons of Beorrh, brother to Berl’hwinne who was the bride of Bearendil? And was not Beorrh the only cub of none other than Bearren and Lursienne — They who ventured against the dreaded Vivimancer in his own place of power, the Tower of Allthreng, and took thence the ancient stone from which he derived much of his magics — themselves?
"Ah, Lursienne ‘the Fair’, justly thus-called. I saw her dance once, once only, at her parents’ court in Bardenn before I travelled onwards into the west with my lord Burrghon to where he founded the fortress of Borrodinn as a stronghold against the Purples… but I shall never forget that evening…”


(Urrsa SunBlesséd) “Whau! I thank you, Wise One, for although it was known to us that Berh’hlurréd was held in those days to be partly TrueBear the actual details of his lineage had — if he had ever revealed them, in those days when the Empire’s agents sought to destroy that kindred, in the first place — long since passed from our knowledge. For we lost all of a particular generation’s Singers in battle during the Wulfen Wars, and in at least one of those cases all of the lost one’s apprentices as well. What other lore was not passed down to the present night because of those deaths, we know not… but we still wonder….”

(‘The Wise’ Grorrfinn) “Hwell, on this point at least you and your kinsfolk need wonder no longer: Descended from Berh’hlurréd, and through him from Bearren and Lursienne, you are indeed… and I will answer thus to any who dare dispute your public acknowledgement of this fact.”

(Urrsa SunBlesséd) “I thank you, on behalf of all my Sept's other mermbers as well as on my own behalf, Wise One.”


(There was a brief pause, while Urrsa and Marra assimilated this information.)


(Marra SunDaughter) “Hr’rmm, you know, Grorrfinn, now that I think on this matter Honey does sort-of have eyes like yours…”

(‘The Wise’ Grorrfinn) “No, she has altogether her maternal grandmother’s lovely eyes…
“Oops!”

(Urrsa SunBlesséd) “Hwait, you don’t mean! We always did wonder who her maternal grandfather could have been…”


(‘The Wise’ Grorrfinn) “Ur’rmm… hwell… yes.
“Urra is my own grand-daughter…”






____________________________________________________________________


(OOC: Yes, it’s yet more material that was heavily "inspired" by the work of J.R.R. Tolkien, and this time with a little “borrowing” from Ellis Peters as well. I’ve actually had these revelations planned since fairly soon after I added Grorrfinn to the cast, but — largely because of all the Belles’ previous World Cup campaigns ending with the group stage (except for WC52, when they didn’t even qualify for that...) — the right time to reveal them never seemed to come around before now.)

[The Babbage Islands]

After 983 previous matches, it all comes down to one.

[Aguazul]

The Whitecliff Stadium. Dover.

Words cannot do this moment justice.

But we have supplied some. Perhaps unnecessarily. The boundaries between sections are rather arbitrary so we've supplied some numbers for you, too.

:42 through 1:02, Sortani:
Goal! Cisneros, all right!
Then we just held tight.
Trying to poke back all the attacks from Valley Smashers and defend ourselves from the oncoming Lightning.
But Bazán was up to the task
The defenders did all I could ask.
The Belles were very hairy but we didn't find them too scary or frightening.

1:02 through 1:23, Emilio to Gerardo:
A wise man told me long ago, before we thought of Dover
That a nation isn't really like people who can change.
Season after season all the feelings carry over
Among many people and nobody finds it that strange.
There will be more goals that someday you'll find yourself setting
And you might even achieve some of them before you're done.
But from the fans' perspective, there's no way they'll be forgetting
That there once upon a time was a World Cup final that Aguazul won.

1:23 through 1:33, the fans and Gunsedal
"¡Olé, Olé, Olé, Olé!
We won the World Cup. Okay.
"¡Olé, Olé, Olé, Olé!
What am I supposed to say?

1:33 through 1:52, Martín:
We were the last team that got drawn
But now we're the last team to stand
If you can count so high you're not afraid to multiply six by nine then you can find out all of what Margaret had planned.
It all came down to the final, which was
Apparently the 984th game...
Just between you and me I have to tell you, numerology isn't lame.

1:52 through 2:03, Vedillo:
I'm biased, sure, but I have heard that defense can be vital
And it took a lot to hold out all the way to the end.
It took a team effort but somehow we won the title
And that's the best thing anyone can try to defend.

2:03 through 2:18, Prado:
There were lots of twists and turns within this cycle's system
But at least we got some of the losses out of the way
In less meaningful places so that nobody missed them
And we just kept on winning until at last we won it all today.
How many teams do you know
That clinch three Hall spots in one go?

2:18 through 3:31, Ranemiro
*rocking out on the new electric guitar he has*

3:31 through 3:51, Gerardo
There's quite a lot I've noticed as things change, the world keeps spinning
But it wasn't like I saw this moment coming at all.
Victory by victory, the team just kept on winning
And now we stand atop the world of football.
I've tried to see the beauty in the game, win, lose, or tying
And sight turned into skill, skill turned into something more.
We all had our reasons and our dreams that kept us trying
And when it all came together, this was the moment that we'd waited for.

[Bears Armed]

“Mama-Bear, Daddo…”

“Yes, Hirrdhra-honeykins?”

“If it turns out that I can’t be a shabear when I grow up, then I want to be a professional footballer instead!”

“Hr’rmm…”